Can Love Overcome Stink?
by Dippy Conlon
Summary: Kid Blink and the mayor's daughter. It's been done before, but probably not like this. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Newsies, surprise, surprise.

**A/N:** I wrote this a while ago, but just remembered it. It's fun, I hope.

**Can Love Overcome Stink?**

By Dippy Conlon

It was hot. Halfway through July, the streets of New York had become unbearable. People hid inside, drawing the shades or, in the case of the poor, hanging sheets over the window to keep out the burning sun. When a brave soul ventured outside, he was watched from slits in shades (or sheets) from all sides. He inevitably came back.

There were, however, a few on the streets. Those who had to work scurried to their offices or factories early in the morning before the day was able to reach its full heat. They hid there instead. The few who were actually on the streets during the day were the newsies.

Despite the fact that they had no one to whom to sell, they paced the streets each day, papers in hand. Those lurking behind windows supposed they needed the money just that badly. They, however, did not feel enough pity to venture forth and buy a paper.

In the middle of the second week of this intense heat, Kid Blink wiped a hand across his forehead and nearly whacked Mush in the face when his hand slid across the sweaty surface.

"Watch it!" Mush exclaimed, ducking. The heat had made even Mush irritable, though it was always short-lived. Kid Blink smiled sheepishly and Mush straightened, smiling a bit as well. "Hot."

"Yeah."

"I haven't seen anyone today. Anyone who's not a newsie," he amended. "Do we gotta sell more?"

"I still got ten left. I only sold two this morning," Kid Blink sighed, looking sadly at his pile of papers, which was stuck to his damp arm.

"I got ten, too. And I didn't sell two this morning," Mush pouted.

"I'll split my money with you," Kid Blink told him, less of an offer than a truth. "Things'll get better," he moved to pat Mush comfortingly on the arm, but stopped because it was just too hot to touch someone.

"Yeah, you're right. They will," Mush brightened and waited patiently for a customer.

No one came.

Two hours later, no one had come.

Kid Blink got angry.

"That's it!" he tried to wave his arms dramatically, but it was spoiled by the newspaper hanging off one of them. "I'm going to sell some papers."

"What're you going to do?" Mush asked, rather concerned.

"I'm going into that building!"

Mush wasn't quite sure how to reply, so he followed his friend as he marched determinedly into a nearby building.

Kid Blink marched through the door, marched up the stairs, marched down the hall, and knocked on the door.

Mush jogged after.

"Hello, miss, could I interest you in a paper?"

Mush peeked around the corner and his jaw fell open in shock. You see, Kid Blink had found his way to the mayor's office.

And there he was, Mush's friend, driven crazy by the heat, offering a paper to the mayor's daughter, who had been waiting for her father.

"I suppose you could," she answered, her pleasant smile somewhat blurred by her confusion. "A penny?"

"Yes, miss."

She reached into a small purse and pulled out a shiny coin, which she then handed to Kid Blink. Kid Blink pocketed the coin and handed her a paper, which she accepted, dirtying her white gloves with sweaty black ink. She made a face at the smudges and returned to her seat.

Kid Blink did not do as expected and leave. He continued to stand in the middle of that lavish room. Mush had no idea what to do.

"Hot, isn't it?" Kid Blink addressed the mayor's daughter again. She looked up in surprise, her delicate eyebrows arched.

"Why, yes, I daresay it is," she answered, her pretty mouth forming the words slowly.

"I've been out there all day."

"How unfortunate," she commented, politely leaving out the fact that she had no doubt as to how long he had been out there, given his stench.

"I've only sold three papers. No one comes out."

"You come in," she betrayed no emotion in her voice, so Kid Blink decided she was joking and Mush decided she was angry. He cowered behind the door and wished Kid Blink would faint from the heat so Mush could go in, remove him, and put this awful experience behind all three of them.

"Yes. I need to sell papers," he told her proudly.

"You have, now."

"Have you ever noticed that it's so much worse going back out into hot weather after being somewheres cool like this?"

"I haven't."

"Well, it is."

Mush quietly banged his forehead into the doorframe. Repeatedly.

"Would you like to stay for a moment or two?"

"I would. Thanks for asking, miss. So kind of you," Kid Blink grinned and settled into a chair. "I'm Kid Blink. 'Cause of the patch."

"I'm Miss Van Wyck," Miss Van Wyck, as she preferred to be called by all smelly newsies she met, introduced herself.

"Mayor's daughter. I heard of you," Kid Blink told her.

Vaguely offended that this boy had "heard of" her, Miss Van Wyck merely nodded.

"I'm a newsie."

She did not reply, too busy thinking impolite insults to bother voicing pleasantries.

"It's even hard to sell to the few people we see every day," Kid Blink continued. "The headlines are no good. It's all about the heat and folks don't wanna read about what they gotta live every day."

Mush nodded, somewhat surprised at the insight his friend was showing while apparently insane due to heat. Miss Van Wyck was not so impressed.

"I would think it would be more interesting. It's more relevant, at least."

"Yeah, but if things are bad, folks wanna read about something else. Like my friend Jack. He works here and lives off of less money than you got in your pocket, so he likes to think about Santa Fe 'cause it's nothing like here," Kid Blink explained, putting his hands behind his head.

Mush was still surprised by this insightfulness and Miss Van Wyck was beginning to come around. He was being sensitive, after all. His manners, she observed with distaste, were sorely lacking and his odor plentiful. She nearly winced (it became more of a grimace) as it wafted from his exposed armpits towards her.

Kid Blink was unaware of her reaction since he had closed his eyes, enjoying the dark coolness of the room.

"Except it's hot."

"Pardon?" Miss Van Wyck asked, unsure about what Kid Blink meant by this comment several moments after he had stopped speaking.

"Santa Fe. It's hot there, too," Kid Blink opened his eyes and leaned forward. "I actually miss the winter."

"Why would you not miss the winter?" Miss Van Wyck asked, thinking about Christmas parties and nights snuggling in a warm bed while snow fell outside the window.

"'Cause it's cold," Kid Blink was prepared to leave it at that, but the inquiring wrinkles in Miss Van Wyck's forehead had not disappeared. "Oh, right, you got money," Kid Blink shook his head. "See, for us, there are no warm clothes, parties, or fires. Well, Kloppman sometimes lights one, but it's in his room, selfish ba- brute," Kid Blink amended, glad he had caught himself before cursing. "We spend all day out in the snow selling papers and, I gotta tell you, it's cold."

"I'm sure," Miss Van Wyck answered, pondering his words. It had suddenly struck her just how little she knew about people who were not in the upper class. She knew, as did everyone, that they did not have much money and did not have the comforts by which she had been surrounded since birth, but it had never occurred to her how that affected their lives. That the winter could be considered an unhappy time because of their lack of money, that their perceptions of life were affected by their poverty, shocked her.

"You all right?" Kid Blink asked, crossing the room to sit next to her, "You look sick."

"Fine, I was just-" she stopped. She had been fine, simply thinking, but she suddenly felt quite ill. She quickly realized that her stomach had turned at the fresh wave of body odor coming from the now much closer newsie; however, she had begun to like him a bit and didn't want to offend him by telling him so. She took a deep breath (through her mouth) and shook her head. "I'm just fine." She smiled convincingly, and quite prettily, in Kid Blink's opinion. He smiled back and Miss Van Wyck was rather surprised to feel her cheeks warm at the sight.

Mush was shocked and engaged in a quite a bit of eye-rubbing and arm-pinching before he allowed himself to believe this new turn of events.

The two inside the room continued to smile, rather stupidly, at each other while Mush gaped at them from the doorway. The three facial expressions changed when the door leading from the mayor's office opened. Well, honestly, Mush's didn't change, but he was gaping at something else all together: the mayor (because he is really the only logical person to emerge from the mayor's office).

"Alice, I'm finish-" the mayor stopped speaking suddenly or, at least, Mush assumed that he had stopped in the middle of the word "finished" because the odds of him opening the door to announce that he was Finnish were very slim.

The mayor was caught in a tangle of emotions. Well, actually, the only real emotions were anger and shock, which are usually linked anyway, but he was caught in a tangle of causes for these emotions and the spiders were closing in. His only daughter was sitting quite close to a filthy (phew, very filthy) newsboy. She had been smiling, smiling pleasantly, at him. He had been smiling pleasantly at her. And he had inadvertently told this boy, who was sitting quite close to his only daughter while smiling pleasantly at her while being smiled at pleasantly by her, his daughter's first name.

One word resonated through his mind, but it will not be recorded because it is highly inappropriate and he would like to forget the fact that he knows and has used it, even if it was only this one time. It would also corrupt the children and he is very against corrupting the children. It's one of his policies: Do Not Corrupt the Children. Alice, as we will now call her because we now know that it is her name, had stitched it into a pillow for him when she was ten.

In particular, he did not want to corrupt his child, so he was even more upset at the idea that his daughter, who smiled pleasantly at so few people, was smiling pleasantly at this boy who reeked of garbage, sweat, and some foul substance the mayor could not identify (but, to be honest, he was not trying hard because he felt that ignorance of this matter more than of any other would be bliss). Why couldn't she have smiled pleasantly at one of the nice young men he introduced her to last night? She looked so very pretty when she smiled pleasantly, much prettier than when she sneered like she was looking at a dirty rodent as she had last night. The worst part was that she had sneered at the clean, rich, intelligent young men last night and was smiling at the dirty street rat. She was obviously confused.

"Alice, what are you doing?" the mayor's voice boomed, as it was wont to do when he was angry. He took a moment to enjoy how intimidating he sounded before resuming his glare, which simultaneously conveyed his fury and his fatherly affection.

"I am waiting for you, father," Alice, who will no longer be referred to by the respectful title 'Miss Van Wyck' because her father flushed that down the toilet, replied, hoping against hope that he would ignore the unwashed boy who was sitting so very close to her (she included both descriptions in her mind because she was not sure which would offend her father more, the dirt or the proximity).

"What are you doing with this boy?" her father boomed again, using the term 'boy' loosely.

"He sold me a paper and wished to escape the heat for a few moments," Alice (ha!) replied, casting her eyes down in what she hoped was a remorseful gesture.

"He should have waited somewhere else," he told her, no longer booming because it wasn't impressive if used all the time.

"I know, father," she answered.

"Come, we're going home," he commanded and Alice quickly gathered her things to follow. She quietly took the newspaper along and made only the briefest eye-contact with Kid Blink.

Mush saw the mayor heading towards the door, so he dashed, arms flailing and head thrown back (it's not his fault, the poor kid just isn't a graceful runner), around the corner to hide.

"Goodbye, Miss Van Wyck," Kid Blink told her quietly, using the respectful title because he liked her and we all do stupid things for love.


End file.
